


Fall

by AlleyKat6



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Almost Dying, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bleeding, Bleeding Out, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Brain Damage, Car Accident, Car Accidents, Coma, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor almost dies, Dad Hank, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Anderson and Connor Live Together, Hank Anderson and Connor are Family, Head Injury, Hospital, Hospitalization, Injury Recovery, Medical, Medical Emergency, Medical stuff, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Pain, Parent Hank Anderson, Poor Connor, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Parent Hank Anderson, Recovery, Serious Injuries, Stress, Surgery, Takes place in 2040, android anatomy, android brain damage, android hospital, android life support, android medical stuff, android repairs, android surgery, car crash, coming home, connor will get happiness in the end, connor worrying hank, discharge from hospital, emergency surgery, how do androids work, internal bleeding, life support, not so easy android medical issuess, replacment android parts, things eventually get better, things will get better but never be the same, things will never be the same
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2020-09-29 20:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20441678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyKat6/pseuds/AlleyKat6
Summary: When Connor takes an autonomous taxi home from work he's thrown into a painful struggle of life and death and Hank is thrown into painful memories of another accident on a similar chilly fall night.





	1. Accidents

If you asked Connor his opinion of fall he would likely smile (depending on his mood and who you were, he wouldn't always smile but he'd still inform you on his thoughts ) and then after that, he would tell you how it was a gorgeous time of year. It was his favorite season! Fall was one of the many things he had come to find that he liked. He also liked the spring, dogs, cats, any animal, Hank, Sumo, and reading real paper books (a hobby he had picked up from Hank).  
  
Why was the season a favorite of the deviant? Fall was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And that was a _ fact _ most would agree on. It amazed the deviant. Bright and bold oranges, reds, yellows lined the streets and parks. Small bursts of color mixed into the cityscape as trees turned into the beautiful hues that they were known for in the fall months. The crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, the beautiful color spreading to the sidewalks below.  
  
Fall was quickly becoming one of Connor's favorite seasons, right next to spring. He enjoyed spring but he wasn’t sure if he’d call it his favorite season. The warmer air and relief from the freezing winter was a welcomed change, and all the plants were budding to life. He liked nature and greenery, and he liked spring. Then, summers were nice but the high temperatures could at times bother even him. He felt like he would overheat and shut down in the boiling sun. And then there was winter. Winter brought memories of Amanda and the garden. Memories and fears he rather not think about.  
  
But autumn? Autumn was different. The air was chilly and crisp and there were pops of color throughout the city as the leaves started to change color and harvest decorations were put up. There was something to it all of it that Connor had grown to love.  
  
While autumn was Connor’s favorite season, Hank had other feelings about the season. It was understandable, after all, fall was when he lost his young son Cole. And the fall had a lot of fun to offer to children and their families. All the memories and the pain of what could have been must have been difficult for the man. Connor didn’t dare argue about or even bring up the season to Hank. Although he did want to do some fall activities and it would be extra fun to do it with the man. Maybe he would ask sometime. Maybe even today he would dare bring it up. Hopefully, he wouldn't anger or upset the man.

* * *

Connor enjoyed the rides to and from work each day, and also found himself taking walks around the neighborhood. The crisp air helped him clear his head. On their way to work that morning, Hank drove and Connor sat in the passenger seat as what had become the norm.

"Lieutenant?"

"Hank." Hank had corrected, they weren't at work yet. He wasn't lieutenant outside of work. Anywhere else he was just Hank.  
  
"Hank." Connor said. "Hank? This coming weekend could we go to a pumpkin patch or a corn maze?"  
  
Hank raised an eyebrow. That was an interesting request. And Hank didn't know what to say. He knew it would make Connor happy but on the other hand it might be too much for Hank. Last time he went to one of those fall agriculture entertainment places was with Cole. The day fucking before the accident. Fuck. Fucking hell.  
  
"No." Hank snapped. "No fucking way."  
  
"But Hank I-"  
  
"** _I said no Connor_ **."  
  
Connor went quiet and remained so the rest of the drive to work. It seems he was wrong. He thought it wouldn't upset him but it clearly did...

* * *

For as much as he enjoyed the season of fall, he often found himself inside. He was working hard. Looking over cases in need of solving, interrogating suspects, and putting the pieces together to help bring justices to the crimes he was cased with. He’d come in early, work late and some days? He wouldn’t leave the precinct at all.  
  
The intensity of his work varied from case to case. It depended on multiple variables.  
  
How old was the case? (Connor liked solving cold cases and newest cases took priority as the fresher things were the easier it was to solve)  
  
Who were the victims? (Connor tried to treat each case the same no matter who was involved, it was only fair and the right thing to do. But there were some that just stuck him more than others)  
  
Did all the key details fit? Did they even have the key details?  
  
There was a lot to how he worked. Sometimes he would just get obsessed. He ** _had_ ** to solve the case and couldn’t do anything until he figured it out.  
  
It was an early October evening and Connor was working late. Whenever he set his focus on something, he worked hard until his goal was achieved. His work was no different. He was laser-focused on the current case at hand. He was yet again obsessing over a case.  
  
“You coming kid?” Hank asked as he stood from his desk. It was the end of their shift.  
  
“No, you go ahead. I’ll catch a taxi after I figure this out.”  
  
Hank sighed, he rather Connor not work hours on end and just come home for the night but from experience of almost two years of knowing him, Hank knew Connor wouldn’t listen so he didn’t waste his breath in arguing.  
  
“Alright. Don’t work yourself too hard kid. It's an old case, older than you even. No point in driving yourself into the ground over it…" He didn't know if Connor would listen to him or not but it had to be said. "Come home tonight, got it?” Hank quickly added.  
  
“Got it.” Connor replied with a small nod, not even looking up from the case files on his desk. It seemed he wasn't paying full attention to Hank. Most of his attention was on the case file in front of him.  
  
Hank started to head out, looping around from his side of the desk to Connor’s side of the desk. “And don’t forget to call me when you’re on your way home, don’t worry me, kid!”  
  
“I’ll be sure to call, Lieutenant,” Connor assured, still zoned out of the conversation.  
  
Hank had heard that before but Connor had left him waiting and worrying. Not on purpose of course. Connor would never worry the man on purpose. He just got caught up in his investigations. All he needed was a reminder to take a break and to check-in. “I mean it, kid. Call me or text me.” He said in a stern and serious voice. “Don’t stay too late either.”  
  
He patted the android on the shoulder and with that Hank tossed on his jacket and left Connor to work while he headed home. He hopped Connor would keep him updated. Let him know he was okay and just working. And then let him know when he was heading home. It wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?

* * *

  
  
Hank left Connor alone as he made his way to his car in the parking garage and tiredly headed home. He was used to heading home on his own and Connor coming home later by taxi. It happened at least three or four times a month, if not more. Connor would be fine. If he hadn’t heard from him in a few hours, Hank would text him as a reminder to take a break.

Hank arrived home and was promptly nearly knocked over by Sumo. “Easy boy! Down! Good ta see you too but Con will be home later.” He knew the St. Bernard was excited to see him, sure but the dog didn't love anyone more than a certain RK unit that had moved in with the family. "Come on, let's get us both something to eat. We can have whatever the hell we want tonight!" He chuckled. Connor wasn't home to nag him about his or Sumo's diet after all. Might as well get something good while he had the chance!

* * *

  
  
Connor stood by his desk multitasking as he looked over the case for what had to be the tenth time. To say he was busy would be an understatement. Multiple files were spread out on both his and Hank's desks, multiple tabs were open in his terminal and he was running searches through his head...while simultaneously reading what was in front of him.  
  
It had been hours and hours since Hank had gone home, and Connor was still working. The man had left right before six and now it was going on midnight. The android had yet to check in with Hank and didn’t show any signs of heading home just yet. He was so focused on the case that he didn’t realize how late it was. His attention was snapped away from his work when a text message came in.**  
  
_From Hank, 12:01:04 AM: You okay?_ ** ** _  
_ ** ** _From Hank, 12:01:24 AM: Don’t work yourself too hard kid  
From Hank, 12:01:38 AM: Come home soon, alright?  
  
_**Connor paused as he read the texts. Oh...right. He hadn’t messaged Hank. He hadn’t talked to him at all since the man left. Not only that but he hadn’t taken any breaks...not that he truly needed a break but he did promise Hank he wouldn’t overwork himself and he would also text or call him. Connor instantly felt guilty for not keeping his promise. Hank must have been worried. Connor texted right back without hesitation.  
  
**_To Hank, 12:01:39 AM: I’ll head home now. Sorry if I worried you.  
  
_**He didn’t want to stop working, he felt like he was on the verge of a breakthrough! He was onto something! But after failing to text Hank sooner Connor couldn’t help but listen to the man. He wanted him home soon so he should just head home now. He could always just work from home anyway.  
  
Connor set out putting away the piles of files he had scattered over the desks and logged out of his terminal. Setting the files where they belonged Connor cybernetically called for a taxi. He kept several files with him, so he could look over them once he got home.  
  
The taxi pulled up in front of the precinct and Connor entered the autonomous vehicle and sent another text out to Hank, so the man knew he was on his way home.  
  
**_To Hank, 12:28:06 AM: I’m in the taxi now. See you soon.  
  
_**With a nearly silent _ ‘shoosh’ _ the door slid shut. Clicking closed. The cab let out an overly loud and happy sounding chime before it pulled away from the curb. Another chime sounded as the taxi read off Connor’s destination and gave him an estimated arrival time in an automated, robotic sounding voice.  
  
“Thank you for riding with Detroit’s automated taxi service. Your destination is _ 115 Michigan Drive, Detroit _ , _ Michigan _ . And your estimated arrival time is _ twelve fifty-nine AM _ .” With that, the car quietly headed on its way down the mostly empty city streets.

* * *

When Hank got Connor’s text saying he was on his way home, he decided to wait up until Connor arrived home. Another half-hour wouldn’t be too much. What did it matter if he went to bed now or at one in the morning?  
  
The thirty minutes came and went with no Connor in sight and no further message from him either. Maybe he was just running late… but then the night slowly crept on.  
  
It got later and later.  
  
With worry, Hank texted Connor only to get no response. More worry formed knots in his stomach. Something was wrong...something was wrong…Connor always responded to his texts. Quickly too...a little too quick. The perks of being an advanced android and having all your texts in your head...but that also meant if he didn't respond…something had to be wrong...right? Right.  
  
More time passed as Hank paced the living room anxiously. He was about to attempt to text Connor again or head out to search for him, report him missing, head to the precinct, something, anything! When his thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the front door.  
  
“Fucking hell.” Hank cursed.

* * *

The automatic taxi was making good time. At this rate, Connor would be home several minutes before the estimated arrival time. He was only ten minutes away. He would be home soon. Connor was looking out of the window, watching as the world seemingly sped by. Even in the darkness of the middle of the night, Connor enjoyed watching the world around him and catching glimpses of the fall leaves....however, even with his superior android vision he couldn’t see much in the pitch black that was the midnight hour.  
  
He wasn’t paying much attention to anything in particular. He was just enjoying the quiet drive home and honestly, couldn’t wait to start working again from home. He was also excited to see Sumo. It had been nearly eighteen hours since he had been home! He missed the gentle giant that was Hank’s St. Bernard. Thinking about how long he had been going, made the android suddenly tire...huh maybe once he got home he’d take a nap as well.  
  
The drive was going peacefully and Connor could have sworn he even nodded off for a bit but then, with a jarring swerve everything fell apart. There was the crunch of tristing, crushing metal and dented fiberglass. The shattering of glass.  
  
Darkness.  
  
Pain.  
  
Cold.  
  
Blood.  
  
Confusion.  
  
What had happened?  
  
Connor blinked and his LED flashed yellow and red as he tried to process his situation and figure out what had happened. He was no longer fully in the taxi, and the taxi itself was on its side. Not too far away there was a truck that was also crumpled but it was clear most of the damage had been to the taxi. With a spike of stress and fear Connor realized he had just been in a car crash.  
  
Connor’s HUD was flooded with warnings. Lists and more lists of damaged and critically damaged biocomponents and parts flashed in front of his eyes.  
  
****

**_Damage to biocomponent #8456w_ **

** _Damage to biocomponent #7511p_ **

** _Damage to biocomponent #4507_ **

** _Critical Thirium leak from biocomponent #8427g_ **

** _Damage to biocomponent #8427g_ **

** _Critical Thirium leak from biocomponent #2886_ **

** _Damage to biocomponent #2886  
  
_**

The list went on and on with no end in clear sight. His skull, central processing unit, thirium pump regulator and more were all damaged in some way. Those were his vital biocomponents! They were equivalent to the human vital organs of the brain and heart. The information frightened the RK800. Connor’s stress levels skyrocketed. 'Stress eighty percent and rising' a warning popped up, adding to the clutter in his vision.  
  
Everything hurt. Oh god did he hurt.  
  
He couldn’t focus. He hurt so bad. The deviant wasn’t even aware he could feel pain at least not like this. He had only recently discovered he could feel any pain. Just a few days ago in fact. He was stacking files and nicked his finger in a very particular way...yes, a simple paper cut it had been. That was what his first experience with pain was. But this? This wasn’t anything like that. It was thousands of times worse. Even more. Everywhere hurt and he didn't just feel stinging of a nick in his skin. Oh no. He felt gashes and dents and breaks.  
  
Androids didn’t have the luxury of adrenaline or other aids to numb the initial pain until the shock wore off. Oh no. Androids felt it all, the entire time they were conscious. Even once at a facility, there was no pain relief. Not all androids felt pain. It was uncommon. And pain killers were still being designed for deviants.  
  
He was scared as he blinked once, then twice trying to rid his vision of the red blaring warnings.  
  
He didn’t want to see what was wrong with him. He didn’t want to know all the ways he was slowly dying, alone in a ditch.  
  
His LED glowed bright red as thirium trickled out and down his forehead, as well as from several other places along his body.  
  
He needed help.  
  
He was damaged. Cold, bleeding, hurting and critically damaged. In a pained and confused daze, the android managed to contact emergency services. His LED flashed and flickered in its cherry-red state as he placed the call.  
  
He was losing thirium. He could tell without his HUD informing him of the steady leak. He could feel the sleek blue fluid dripping down his face, abdomen, and even legs. It was warm and pooling around him.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Oh. Fucking. God.

He was going to die, wasn’t he?  
  
He was going to die….he was dying, he was. He felt it.  
  
Connor was scared. He didn’t want to die. Not here, not now. Not alone. He couldn’t leave the people he’d come to call his friends. Markus, Simon, North, and Josh. No. And he absolutely couldn’t leave the man he had come to call family. The man he saw as a father figure. He couldn’t leave Hank. And he couldn't bear to think what losing another loved one would do to him...There was no shutdown counter in his vision just yet. Maybe he wasn’t going to die after all...but he could still feel low power mode creeping in. He was being pulled into a form of sleep.  
  
He was trying to fight it. He had to stay awake. Awake meant he was alive. But sleep mode was looking more and more appealing. The blissful state of unconsciousness meant no pain, no worries…  
  
“H-hank, I’m sorry..”

Finally, low power mode hit and with that sleep mode pulled him in. The android fell unconscious as sirens blared in the distance.

* * *

Hank knew what the knock meant as soon as he heard it. His worst fears were coming true. How did he know?  
  
For one knocks like that, this late at night were never good and secondly, Hank had been on the other side of plenty of front doors in his years as an officer. Knocking on some blissful unaware person’s door to inform them of the death of a loved one or some other tragic event that happened to a relative. Hank had no reason to suspect this was any different.

He immediately made his way to the door and threw it open. His fearful theory proved correct.

Chris stood on the side, face grim.  
  
“Hank...I’m sorry to come here like this but...earlier tonight around twelve forty there was...uh...an accident involving a truck and an automated taxi...god Hank I'm so sorry but...Connor was in that taxi…”  
  
Hank’s stomach sunk. He felt fucking sick. Absolutely destroyed. But Chris wasn’t done delivering the news. He had something that made this devastating news a bit easier to bear.  
  
“We don’t actually know if he’s…” Dead..? Deactivated? “ If he was killed. No one on the scene knew much about androids so they couldn’t pronounce him dead but he did not seem like he was...” On? Active? Conscious? Functional? Alive? “He didn’t seem okay. He wasn’t awake and wasn’t...wasn’t breathing...the medics took him to the android center downtown.” Chris gave one more piece of information “We haven’t heard back from the android hospital to know if he was DOA or not...you should get down there.”  
  
Hank swallowed hard and nodded. “...Thanks, Chris…”  
  
The other man gave a respectful and somber nod. “Sorry again Hank…I have to get back to the station...I’ll keep Connor in my thoughts.” With that Chris turned and left, heading down Hank’s front walkway to his waiting patrol car.  
  
Hank left the door open as he tugged on his boots and tossed on his jacket. He quickly tracked down his car keys and rushed out the house, slamming the door shut behind him. Sumo’s barking didn’t register with the man as he started the old car and headed into the city. Painful memories of another chilly fall night gripped and clawed at the man as he drove a _ little _ faster than he ideally should have. Knuckles white from how tightly he gripped the steering wheel.

* * *

Sirens blared and flashing lights filled the dark road as emergency responders arrived on the scene of the horrific crash. Connor, however, was oblivious to the world around him. The severely damaged android had gone into the android equivalent of being unconscious. Bright blue Thirium pooled around him and was steadily seeping out from several large cracks that formed alongside his head and in the rest of his frame.  
  
The worst of it appeared to be his abdomen. His artificial lungs had ceased to circulate air in an attempt to conserve energy. His head lulled to the side and his body was limp. His LED barely gave off any glow, and what color it did produce was an angry shade of red that blinked occasionally.  
  
With no knowledge of android anatomy, the paramedics on the scene had no choice but to attempt to treat the android as they would a human. Handling the situation like they would with an injured human they carefully removed Connor from the destroyed vehicle with a backboard to immobilize him. and placed him on a stretcher. He looked dead to them, what with his pale skin, and inactive LED, but they didn’t know enough to make the call.  
  
Knowing at the very least they needed to stop or contain the leaking sapphire the medics began bandaging any gashes they could find and attempted to apply pressure where they could. Loading him into a waiting ambulance they blared their sirens and started their speeding journey to an android hospital located downtown. If the android was still alive the facility made just for androids would be able to help him better than they or anyone else could. This wasn’t the first android they had to transport.  
  
Medics and ambulances for androids were become a much important and needed part of life but such things were still rare. They had to make do with paramedics will little to no knowledge or training in android anatomy and first aid. Radioing ahead to the facility they notified the android hospital of the impending arrival and of how the android in their unprepared care was unconscious and steadily losing blue blood.

* * *

The ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance as it arrived at the android hospital. Waiting staff rushed out to receive the damaged android from the transport. With the help of the paramedics, Connor was transferred from the ambulance's stretcher onto the gurney the technicians rolled out from the facility. Two technicians assistants, a male human in his late twenties and a female android, hovered over the unconscious android, accessing him at the same time as they sped him through the facility and into an unoccupied exam room.  
  
"Ventilation units have shut down. Patient in stage 1 overheating. Several fractures to the cranium along the left side, visibly fractured jaw unit, signs of severe thirium loss." The human aid listed off to the female technician who came running in alongside them as they entered the room. "Seven-inch gash along the left upper quadrant, a six-inch gash in right side extending down to the right lower quadrant bordering the Thirium pump regulator. Rapidly losing blue blood" Reported the android aid.  
  
Working quickly the android doctor hooked Connor to a bag of thirium by starting the android equivalent of an IV and hanging the bag above him. It wouldn't be enough to replace what was lost and he'd quickly bleed it back out since android blood doesn't clot to stop a wound from bleeding but the bag was a good start to help stabilize his otherwise critical condition.  
  
"Hook him up to a diagnostics machine I want to know his system status." The tech called to one of the aids while she turned to the other "Get a sealant" They needed to stop the bleeding. The paramedics did as well of a bandage job as they could and they did a good job in stopping the blue blood from leaking out but they were only a temporary fix. The assistant left and returned with a sealant to help close the damage in Connor's frame. Meanwhile the other connected him to a nearby machine. The monitor started to show readouts of the damage and the android's system status.  
  
It was a long list. Low thirium pressure, low thirium volume, ventilation biocomponents temporarily disabled, erratic thirium pump rate, damaged pump regulator, damage to the left leg, damage to both arms, facial fractures, overheating, even damage to his processor. The technician started to cut clothes off Connor's body to better see the extent of the gashes and cuts over him.  
  
The technician carefully removed the blue soaked gauze, tossing the bloodied bandages aside she worked to close what wounds she could. Spraying a liquid sealant into the minor wounds the technician worked to stop the bleeding. Some of the gashes would need to be welded and mended shut, others would need the plating to be replaced to fully repair the damage. The sealant was just slightly more of a fix then the bandages. It would stop the bleeding long enough for full repairs.  
  
Grabbing more thirium and hanging yet another bag the technician took a deep breath and a step back. The android wasn't anywhere out of the woods just yet but he would be able to hold out as compatible components were tracked down and put in place.  
  
At the top of the diagnostic screen, Connor's model was displayed. 'RK800', a model the android physician had never heard of but the tech called down to the stock room to inform them. They were going to need RK800 compatible parts and as soon as possible.  
  
Having assessed him and provided emergency thirium supply they wheeled him to the repair bay for emergency repairs and replacement of his damaged biocomponents and parts.  
  
Everything happened quickly. From the time he was taken off of the ambulance to the time he hit the repair room was around five minutes. It was only minutes after his arrival and half an hour after the accident and now Connor laid naked on what was for all intents and purposes an operating table as his bleeding wounds were starting to be sealed and his chest panel was being opened to replace parts and stop even more bleeding that was happening internally.  
  
Chilled thirium circulated in his artificial veins to help bring down his internal temperature from his feverish high to a safer range. Android bodies ran higher temperatures than humans but the normal body temperature wasn't that different. A healthy android hovered in what would be a low-grade fever in a human. And while they could take way more, deathly high temperatures before possible irreversible damage and even death hit it was still dangerous when an android overheated.  
  
A raised temperature meant that the biocomponents were working overtime. And that extra duty would cause harm eventually. What helped to keep an android’s temperature in check? Several systems and biocomponents worked in unison to help regulate body temperature. The biocomponents were a thermal regulator, two ventilation components and internal fans.  
  
Usually, androids breathed much like humans, with a set of biocomponents that looked like human lungs. They didn't require oxygen to function and there were even androids sent to space, but breathing served two functions. For one it helped make them appear more lifelike and less uncanny to humans. And secondly, they served as a form of ventilation helping to cool down internal components and prevent overheating.  
  
Connor's ventilation and fan biocomponents or, lungs for a more human term, weren't damaged in the crash. His systems temporarily turned them off to persevere his dwindling energy and thirium supply. Once the bulk of the damage was fixed and his systems calibrated themselves his lungs should resume function and return his systems to normal operating temperatures.  
  
Bright blue splattered and contrasted the bright silvery table and the dark protective gloves of the technician. The technician and several aids worked meticulously to seal broken thirium tubing and reattached disconnected wires and cables.  
  
That was only the first steps.  
  
Androids, for the most part, we're easy to fix. Parts easily swapped out for new ones when old ones broke or wore out...but there was some damage that couldn't be replaced as easily especially as androids found their place as living beings. In the past when significant damage was sustained to an android they were just reset or sent to the junkyard. They were replaced or had their memory wiped out. Perhaps both.  
  
With deviancy and free will that was no longer an option. And damage while sometimes still easy to repair could also be a life and death struggle. It was going to be a long process to repair or replace all the damage and even with new parts, it was unclear if the android before them was going to survive.

* * *

Hank arrived at the android hospital faster than he had ever driven downtown. A twenty-five-minute drive (on a good day, minus traffic) became only fifteen minutes. If that. Hank had his police lights to thank for that.  
  
Hank pulled into an open parking spot and rushed into the emergency room.  
  
Heading up to the desk he requested any information on Connor.  
  
"Uhh yeah, my partner, Connor, he's an android and he was in a car crash earlier tonight and I was told they brought him here?"  
  
"Connor?" The receptionist asked. She didn't have any information on a patient named 'Connor' "Do you have a model or serial number? Or a description even?" She questioned.  
  
Hank mentally cursed as he drilled his brain for what model the kid was...what was he...what was he...r something...rk? Rk800!  
  
"RK800. Dark hair, brown eyes, button shirt, tie, Detroit Police uniform jacket, black jeans?"  
  
With a few quick keystrokes, the receptionist nodded. "RK800..._ Connor _is here. They took him back for repairs. I don't know when they'll be out of operation, why don't you have a seat and wait?"  
  
If they took him back for repairs then that meant he was alive right? The word operation settled heavy on him. Cole needed emergency surgery as well…no. Fuck. He can't think about that now! Connor needed him! Connor...Connor would be fine. The kid was tough. Androids were built strong and resilient. Things could easily be fixed unlike when humans were hurt….  
  
"Is he okay?"  
  
"I'm sorry sir. I don't have that kind of information but I can let an aid know you're here. They'll be able to update you on his condition when they're able to."  
  
Hank nodded. "Please. I need to know."  
  
"What name should I give them?"  
  
"Ha-.....Anderson. Tell them, Anderson."  
  
With that, Hank was left waiting.

* * *

He paced anxiously back and forth in the waiting room. Finally, he managed to take a seat. Thankfully it was only a few minutes later when someone came out to inform him of the situation.  
  
"Anderson?"  
  
Hank stood. "How is he?"  
  
The technical aid, or equivalent to a nurse looked to Hank with a somber expression. It was the same human who helped unload Connor on his arrival.  
  
"My name is Devon, I’m an android technical assistant...think of me as a nurse. And Connor… is currently in emergency repairs. He sustained critical damage to several biocomponents and had severe blood loss and traumatic internal bleeding." He explained.  
  
"..Shit…is..is he.." Hank didn’t know what to say.  
  
"He's still in repairs and critical but is slowly stabilizing."  
  
"How long will repairs take?"  
  
"I'm sorry Sir, I don't know. But with the number of parts that need to be replaced, it will likely be at least a few hours...and that is if everything goes well and there are compatible replacement components in stock."  
  
"What the hell does that mean? What do you mean 'if the replacements are in stock' and what will happen if they aren't?"  
  
"It depends on the biocomponents that are damaged or missing."  
  
"Biocomponent. You keep using that word, what's a biocomponent?" Hank questioned. He had a sickly feeling twisting in his gut. Oh god. He was going to lose yet another loved one, wasn’t he?  
  
“The parts that make up an android and help them function, sort of similar to human organs."  
  
Hank froze. Horror washing over his features. Organs? Connor was hurt bad enough to need new organs? Hank knew it wasn't the same as a human. It wasn't like a transplant. Androids had pop out and in parts. He knew that. But the news was still rattling. And the idea of Connor not getting the new parts he needed made Hank's blood run cold. The aid sounded like he was talking about a car in the shop, not a person struggling for life...and while android repairs were indeed more like that of car repair than human surgery it still didn't sit well with the man. What if Connor didn't get the parts he needed? Would he die?  
  
It was that October night all over again. Cole needed surgery and didn't get it and now Connor needed repairs and might not get them. He took a deep breath and tried to push the memories away, be in the present where he was needed. Connor needed him. He needed a clear mind to best help his android partner and not a clouded mind and old wounds reopening. Still, the stabbing similarities lingered. Another deep breath.  
  
Question after question buzzed in the Lieutenant's head. Many of the questions he didn’t know how to ask or if he wanted the answers to. There was one burning in the forefront. He didn’t know if he’d like the answer (in fact he was certain he wouldn’t) but it needed to be asked. He had to know.  
  
"What will happen if the parts he needs aren't available?" Hank asked. Maybe it wasn't as bad as Hank had feared...maybe...just maybe Connor would be alright. Hank could only hope.  
  
“As I said it would depend on the biocomponent, as well as the state of the one in need of replacement. If it’s a non-vital component it’s possible he could recover without it. Limited, but still alive.” Devon explained, the man seemed used to explaining this.  
  
“What if it’s vital?” God, he hated this.  
  
“His chances of survival drop significantly but we'd be able to put him on auxiliary power until a proper part can be found." Devon paused before adding "His diagnostic scans do not indicate any shutdown risks, as his systems haven’t initiated any warnings or timers. So we currently don’t think he’s in danger of shutting down as long as we work quickly.” Devon sure did like to talk, didn’t he? The long drawn out technical mumble sure was something for Hank to try to wrap his head around. And while the jargon might have mostly went over Hank’s head, he was a smart man and got the gist of it. He’d pick out enough at least to know Connor wasn’t dead or actively dying at the moment. And thank god for that. What a relief to know.  
  
"He won't be in the clear until all his damaged parts are fixed or replaced and his systems recalibrate themselves, but we're doing the best we can....I'm sorry I have to get back to my patients. Someone will be out once Connor is out of repairs." With that, Devon excused himself leaving Hank standing alone in the waiting room.  
  
Hank didn't feel any better. He was still as much of a worried wreck as when he showed up. God, he hoped Connor would be alright. He had to survive he just had to. Hank went back to pacing the small room. He couldn't bring himself to sit still and those chairs were fucking uncomfortable anyway.

* * *

Back in the repair bay, the 'surgery' continued. The bleeding was finally stopped as all the disconnected and cut lines were taken care of. Without the risk of losing anymore thirium yet another bag of blue blood was given. That would top off his thirium supply bringing him back to one hundred percent. The blue blood that was in his abdominal cavity from the internal bleeding, was suctioned out and from there it was recycled back into him through another IV. Once the Thirium was drained from his chest and abdomen everything within the area as cleaned off to protect the biocomplents from getting clogged up or overheated.  
  
As full thirium volume circulated in his artificial veins the color returned to Connor's pale skin and some of his minor cuts and abrasion fixed themselves with the help of his self-healing program. The skin recovered the areas it could. But many areas still had the skin retracted from the damage. Moving on to the damaged biocomponents, there was a lot to fix or replace. The parts that had the most severe damage would need to be replaced. Replacing was quicker and easier than fixing, in most cases, so the technician turned her attention to those parts first.  
  
Thankfully even though Connor’s model was rather unique and a prototype, there were compatible parts in stock for all but one biocomponent and all the others could easily be fixed instead of replaced. Connor’s left eye, right arm, thermal regulator, and thirium holding tank were all replaced. The tank apparently having been one of the main causes for the extensive internal bleeding as it had been ripped open like a tin can, causing blue blood, yet to be cycled into his system to seep into his abdomen. There was only one part that was damaged enough to warrant replacing but no compatible replace could be found on hand. And unfortunately, it was a vital biocomponent.  
  
While it was still functional, Connor’s thirium pump regulator was severely damaged and loose. How it hadn’t justled out and caused a permanent shutdown was a miracle. Something had to be done. The android’s heart would have to be regulated from an outside source until a compatible regulator could be installed. Before androids were seen as living beings and just objects, such auxiliary support was nonexistent. Something was out of stock? Just buy a new android.  
  
Over the years since the revolution, many things had come into development for android life. Major developments in android health care came into existence. Developments such as life support options for when a part couldn’t readily be replaced or the unthinkable irreversible damage was sustained.  
  
Connor’s chest and abdominal plating, which was already opened slightly, was opened more so that his thirium pump was exposed. The thirium pumped served a very similar function to that of a heart and even took a similar appearance to that of a human heart. A few wires were attached to the heart on one end and the other end led to a small machine. The machine would beat Connor’s heart for him until his regulator could be replaced.  
  
Moving on to repairs, Connor’s skull, jaw, right knee, left leg and foot, right hand, both sides, abdomen, stomach, liquid holding tank, solids holding tank, even several teeth all had to be repaired. Dents, rips, gashes, and other damage had to be fixed. A tube was placed into his liquids holding tank to drain any fluid from within it, to prevent it from leaking into his lower abdomen and potential compromising his other biocomponets. It would have to stay in place until Connor was stable enough to take care of himself.

Once that was all done, the long repair session was mostly over and Connor could be put in a recovery room where an eye could be kept on him until his systems recalibrated and healed the remaining injuries and his regulator could be replaced.  
  
But, there was still one major injury not addressed, and the technicians were unable to do anything without risking a shutdown or reset. If they were to do anything it would have to be with the consent of Connor or someone else on his behalf.  
  


That was if Connor ever woke up again.

* * *

Hank, barely keeping it together, kept waiting, sitting down for a bit before pacing once more and keeping this cycle up during the entirety of his long wait. Walk back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, sit, tap feet, look at phone with no real attention to it, more walking back and forth, and repeat. In his waiting, he’d heard from Chris, Fowler and even Gavin. All calling and texting to giving him their support, condolences, and assurances for Connor’s survival. Gavin had even stopped in as the sun was rising, with a coffee and a small breakfast in hand. Hank could barely mumble an awkward thank you before he went back to pacing.  
  
While he had heard from several people outside of the hospital, giving him condolences he rather not hear, the man had heard nothing more from the hospital staff. It was a painful wait that was all too similar to another crisp fall night five years prior.  
  


* * *

  
If Hank had even the slightest idea what would happen that night or even just knew about the possibility of slick roads or even ice on the roads he wouldn't have gone out and he sure as hell wouldn't have taken Cole out either. They would have both been home safe, together. And Cole would have lived to see his seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth birthdays. He would have been eleven already this year. Eleven! Was that considered a preteen or tween? Most likely. And the teen years would have been right around the corner. Hank was sure his son would have driven him crazy one way or another. Gave him stress and worry. All sorts of things. Wrangling a teenager sure would have been something.  
  
But unfortunately, that hadn't been the case.  
  
Life was much crueler. Life, the universe, god, whatever there was had other plans. And that night, that fateful horrible life changing night had started off as a fun evening...only for it to become the worst day of his entire life.  
  
Five years. Five fucking years.  
  
Five years it had been, and Hank was still kicking himself, thinking of what-ifs and should haves, would haves.

* * *

It was night time, not too late but the sun had been down for several hours. Hank and his recently turned six-year-old son Cole were in the car on their way home from a friend's. It was a short drive one they had taken plenty of times before. They would be home in no time. Music blared from the speakers as both of them sang along to the tune. Cole's favorite song. It was particularly cold, especially for an early October evening but Hank would never have guessed the roads were slick with ice.  
  
As the father and son were almost home an oncoming truck crossed into their lane. The truck must have lost control when the driver hit a patch of ice. The Anderson's car swerved to avoid the truck but it was too late. The larger vehicle crashed into the smaller car, crushing it and pushing it across the road. The car flipped and rolled. Rolling several times before settling on its side in a cold, dark, muddy ditch.  
  
Hank will never forget the smell of the filthy ditch or the smell of fluids leaking from both totaled vehicles. Nor would he forget the taste of his own blood dripping down his face, not that he was aware of his injury at the time. His son was his priority. Oh god. The sounds. He'd never forget that either. The sound of impact, the sound of glass and metal settling, the other driver cursing, the sound of boots running over to them, sirens and worse of the most painful sound of all: Cole crying. Cole's sobbing broke his heart. His baby boy. His son was scared and hurting and he could do nothing to take that hurt or fright away.  
  
Still, Hank tried his best to comfort him.  
  
“Shhh it’s alright Cole, it’s alright Daddy is right here.” He said as he came to his son’s side. Ignoring the blood and being careful of an obvious wound, he brushed some stray hair from the boy’s face and carefully held his hand. There was a lot of blood. A lot. A scary amount. He tried not to let his worry show though. He didn’t want to scare Cole any more.  
  
Laying off to the side was the boy’s favorite toy, a stuffed frog Cole had affectionately named Snuggles. The toy had gone through just as much of a beating as the father and son had. The knitted green yarn was torn and ripped from the broken glass and twisted sharp metal. Hank picked the toy up and handed it to Cole.  
  
“And Snuggles is here too.”  
  
“Daddy! Everything hurts, make it stop.”  
  
“Shhh it’s alright buddy, I got you. Everything will be okay. Helps coming, helps coming.”  
  
Hank didn’t remember if he had called 911 or if he didn’t then who did, he also didn’t remember when the paramedics showed up. It was a blurred flash of him being pushed away from his son and someone insisting he needed help too. He refused. Cole was the one who needed help.  
  
Then they were at the hospital, being separated again. That was all a blur too. His damn wrist and ribs ended up broken and he needed several stitches in a few places. But other than that and a concussion he was deemed okay. After way too fucking long he was finally allowed to see his son. What he remembered clearly was entering that small ‘room’, curtained off from the rest of a much larger room. An android trying it’s best to keep the small boy alive. There was only so much they could do without surgery. 

The large bandages around his head and chest. The blood that was already seeping through. The beeps and buzzes of machines failing to keep his son alive. So many wires and things swallowing the unconscious small form. Hank remembered being told his son wasn’t in pain. They had administered a strong painkiller. They also gave him something to put his asleep so he wouldn’t pull anything out or aggravated his wounds. He was comfortable. He wasn’t sure if he believed it but he didn’t want to think about anything else. It was already horrible enough to see his son dying, he didn't want to think about it possibly being painful...  
  
He remembered vividly, being told his son needed surgery as soon as possible in order to survive. It was urgent, an emergency but there was no surgeon available to perform the operation. An android would perform the surgery but there wasn’t necessarily any programmed to handle pediatric trauma cases or even surgical skills. It was that or nothing because the damn human surgeon was high on red fucking ice…. They didn't have a choice and neither did Hank who agreed to the risky procedure.  
  
He remembered the walk down the hall to the operating room, the rather rushed walk. The urgency and the dread. But he was thankful he was allowed to walk alongside his son. His son's toy Snuggles sat beside Cole. Either someone had placed it in the child's arms or he never let go of it from when his father gave it to him in the wrecked remains of their car. Hank wondered which it was. Likely someone saw he came in with it and thought to keep it with him. Hank was grateful to whoever it was who thought to tuck the frog under his arm. Cole would be devastated if he lost his favorite toy. Snuggles had to be there when he woke up.  
  
Then they got to the part where he wasn’t allowed back any more. He gave a squeeze to Cole's hand, a lump formed in his throat when he felt how limp the tiny hand had become. He bent down and gave a kiss to the boy's cheek and brushed more stray hairs from his face.  
  
"I love you kiddo. You'll be okay. See you soon." He took hold of the toy frog beside his son and held it in his own hands. He knew it wouldn't be allowed back with him. One more squeeze of the boy's hand and then he stepped aside so they could continue on to the operating room. He felt so damn helpless as he stood and watched them carry on down the hall as they quickly pushed the gurney down the hall and behind a set of doors.  
  
He was left wondering if he would ever see his son again, and praying that he would. But fearing he wouldn't. And, that was it. That was the last time he ever saw his son. It was barely any time later that he was being told the worst news of his life.  
  


Cole didn’t make it.

* * *

Hank was taken from his thoughts and painful memories when finally someone came out to talk to him. Finally, what seemed like forever, but was only a few hour’s time, a woman, the same technician that had been working to save Connor's life, came out from a set of double doors. “Anderson?” She called to the now slightly busy room.  
  
Hank paused in his pacing and turned to her. “How is he?”  
  
She motioned for him to follow her. “Come with me.”  
  
Hank followed as she leads him to somewhere more private to talk. More fear stirred in the pit of his stomach as he was reminded of the room where he was told of Cole’s death. She leads him to a small plain white room with a small round table and a few chairs. The two sat down across from each other.  
  
“My name is Alex, I’m the technician assigned to RK800’s-”  
  
“Connor.” Hank interrupted  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“His name is Connor.” Hank clarified.  
  
The technician nodded. “I’m the technician assigned to Connor’s care.” She introduced herself. Alex began to explain the situation, her expression was equally somber and sympathetic and she sounded like it. “When Connor came in he was in critical condition and close to a permanent shutdown, which is comparable to death.”  
  
Hank held back, he wanted to throw out all his questions, as he needed answers but he knew she’d answer them in time. His hands balled into fists and bunched up the fabric of his pants. Deep breath, Anderson, deep breath.  
  
She continued on. “He was bleeding at an alarming rate and had internal damage that caused even more bleeding. We rushed him into a repair bay to try to stop the blue blood loss. We managed to stop the hemorrhaging and replace his Thirium. But Connor also had several damaged biocomponents, some beyond repair. Thankfully when androids are damaged their parts are easily replaced...unfortunately it seems as Connor is a rare model.”  
  


Hank didn’t like where this was going. “And what does that mean?”  
  


“We don’t currently have a compatible replacement for his Thirium pump regulator.”  
  


“And what’s a Thirium pump regulator?”  
  


“It’s the biocomponent that makes his Thirium pump, or otherwise to be called his heart, pump and regulates the beat.”  
  


Oh, shit. “And what does that mean for him?” ….fuck...Hank was going to lose Connor, wasn’t he? His friend, work partner...son..was going to die...  
  


“We currently have an outside source helping his heart to beat. He’ll have to be on the auxiliary heart until a suitable regulator can be installed.” The technician continued to explain the situation and she sounded sincerely sympathetic as she told the man of the android’s condition.

  
“So, some sort of...life support?” Hank questioned. That’s what it sounded like to him...  
  
Alex took a deep breath and nodded. She looked somber. “Yes. You can think of it that way. You’ll be able to see him shortly but, do be warned his chest plating has been removed so many of his internal biocompnets are visible, including his heart. He hooked up to a machine that’s not only making his pump function but also a machine that functions in place of his ventilation units.” She paused giving the man a look before continuing. “Ventilation units can be thought of like lungs. There’s nothing wrong with Connor’s but his systems turned them off to conserve power. Until his Thirium pump regulator is replaced they will remain off, and without fans to circulate cool air he is at risk of overheating...or otherwise the android version of a high fever.”  
  
Hank took a deep breath and gripped at the material of his pants as he tried to process the information given to him. Shit. It was fucking serious and...he didn’t want to think about Connor like this on life support and what was practically his organs being visible but...it also meant he was alive and that was a small blessing and a big miracle.  
  
“There’s something else you should know…” Alex said. The young technician sounded hesitant if not unsure.  
  
Hank couldn’t handle this...this couldn’t be happening...this wasn’t real. Another deep breath to ground himself and the man nodded. “Go on, let me hear it.”  
  
She gave the Lieutenant a sad look. “The diagnostics we ran indicated that there was damage to his processor...or part of his brain. That is one biocomponent that can’t as easily be fixed or replaced as it makes the android who they are, hold memories, even allows for deviancy.” She paused to give him time to process what she said before continuing on. “ We are unsure exactly what was damaged, and the extent of it, but our scans did show cracks in the section 3w45A…” Knowing that was just meaningless jargon to him she gave a better explanation:  
  
“That is the part of an android’s brain that regulates various motor functions and other related functions, things such as movement and speech. It also affects various modes such as initiating sleep mode and pulling an android back out of sleep…" There was another long pause followed by more explaining. "We’re unsure how it will affect him until he is conscious...if he ever regains consciousness. We’re also unsure if we’ll be able to fix it, as I had mentioned it is a very risky biocomponent to mess with.”  
  
"So it's a waiting game then? and we have to hope wakes up and he isn't like what mute or paralyzed?'  
  


"Paralyzation is extremely unlikely. But limitations to movement is highly likely. Same with speech. I doubt he'll be mute at least permanently but he might have trouble vocalizing. Looking at diagnostics I believe he will wake up in time but will have both speech and movement limitations."  
  
  
"What can we do about it?'  
  
"Unless there are serious complications he truly cannot live with such as him being locked in sleep mode, I don't recommend repairs. He will have to learn to live and adapt to whatever glitches his processor gives him"  
  
Hank took yet another deep breath. Alright. He can handle this. Connor would wake up and then they'd take this one step at a time. Figure it out. They could do this...they had to.  
  
Hank sighed. "So...anything else? He can't feel pain or anything like that right?"  
  
  
"Androids typically can't feel pain but some deviants have been known to have pain response."  
  
"And Connor…?"  
  
"I do not know. We can monitor his stress levels but unless he is awake to tell us there is little we can do...even knowing there is little yet in the way of android relief."  
  
  
"_ Fuck _."  
  
"His stress levels are low right now" all things considered. "If he is able to feel pain, he shouldn't be in any right now."  
  
  
"Thank God for that" Once again Hank didn't know if he should believe it but he didn't know anything about this sort of thing and couldn't stand the thought of Connor being in any pain. He just had to hope and try to accept that Connor wasn't hurting right now.  
  
  
"Any other questions?"  
  
  
"No..no I'm good."  
  


"Then I'll show you to his room. There's no visiting hours so you can stay as long as you need and come and go as you like... but be warned about how he currently looks. His chest plating is missing so his thirium pump is visible. There's also a lot of wires and tubes connected to him. And several large areas of his artificial skin is missing so you'll see a lot of whites and grays."  
  
Hank nodded and tried to brace himself for that. "Alright. Let's go." 

* * *

Hank was finally allowed to see Connor. Entering the small room that resembled a mix of a human hospital room and a garage of all things. But it smelled just as sterile and antiseptic as any other hospital. As he was told to expect, Connor was still unconscious and hooked to a machine. His heart was visible. It was a little much to take in. Hank was shaking. But he took another step in. He needed to be strong for Connor. To be by his side.  
  
Connor lay unconscious on a bed, hooked up to several wires and tubes with things on either side of him and above him. A faint beeping could be heard. Connor's chest was open and his insides were exposed. He was naked other than a white blanket draped over his lower half. The thing was thin and was more of a sheet than a blanket and rested just under his navel and went down to his ankles. His feet stuck out.  
  
  
Hank took a seat beside the bed as he took Connor’s hand into his own, giving it a gentle comforting squeeze. He reached up and brushed a stray hair out of the android’s face. “Hey, kid. Gave me quite a scare.” He spoke. Other than a soft beeping of a machine monitoring the android's vitals and a soft thump of the machine making his pump beat the room was eerily silent. He didn’t know if Connor could hear him or not but talking helped Hank’s nerves. He needed to fill the room with sound besides those of the machines keeping Connor alive.  
  
As expected Connor didn’t respond to Hank's words. But Hank kept talking, giving the RK800 words of encouragement. “I know they’ll fix ya up soon enough and you’ll get through this.” He gave another small squeeze to the hand held in his own.  
  
“Just hold on a little bit longer...you're a tough kid I believe in ya.” Sure Connor wasn’t actually a ‘kid’ in the sense of child. Connor was an adult, a highly capable and even potentially deadly one at that, and Hank knew that but Connor was younger than him and in that sense, it made him a kid. And he always would be.  
  
The man chuckled and added: ”Hell before you know it you’ll be back at work and nagging me about my eating habits. Maybe I’ll even let you off easy and have a salad with _ little _ backtalk” No talk back at all just wasn’t possible from either of them.  
  
His thumb rubbed circles on the back of Connor’s hand as he attempted to provide comfort in the only way he knew how. It was a small thing but it use to help calm Cole after nightmares or the small injuries of childhood. Hank's other hand rand his fingers through Connor’s hair, ruffling the mess it had become. That was another way to give comfort. It use to make Cole giggle even when he had caught a fever. Hank knew Connor wasn't a child but that didn't matter. He had to comfort him in some way and these were the best way, at least to Hank. Even adults liked a hand squeeze or a brush of stray hair...right?  
  
“You’ll be okay son...you’ll be okay” He whispered as he held back tears  
  
'Please be okay.' Hank thought. 'You have to be'  
  
  
Connor remained unresponsive and the room went quiet except for the beeps and buzzes. Hank's eyes felt heavy from lack of sleep but also stung from tears. He shifted in his seat as he drifted off to sleep. Maybe this was just all a terrible nightmare and he'd wake up at home.


	2. Waiting

Rays of faint sunlight peeked through the slats of the half-open blinds as the morning sun slowly came to relive the dark and harsh night of its seemingly long stay.   
  
As night slowly changed to day outside, inside the android repair facility very little had changed. Connor was still unconscious and barely stable, while Hank slept hunched over in a chair at the android’s bedside. The man’s hand intertwined with the deviant’s as a form of comfort, for_ both _of them.  
  
Hank woke up a few hours into the morning. The sun was already up and the birds were loudly tweeting and chirping cheerful tunes. He had only managed to sleep a few hours, having gotten to the facility so late at night that it might as well had been considered the early hours of the morning, he didn’t fall asleep until the sun was about to come up to begin with.  
  
What few hours he got was more than needed, he was exhausted after staying up worrying and waiting on Connor before he was informed of the accident, then got no sleep as he waited on the news about the deviant.  
  
When he finally settled in last night, even with all his thoughts and worries and even in that hard molded plastic chair he was quick to fall asleep. He hadn’t even noticed how damn hard and uncomfortable that chair really was until he woke up this morning.  
  
That damn plastic chair hurt his back at that angle...or at any angle for that matter, damnit! Why did they have to be so hard and uncomfortable? Would it kill them to add at least a little bit of padding? Or any padding! What little they had on it was so flat and useless Hank wouldn't bother to call it more than a _ hope _that padding may exist. It didn’t/ Not here anyways. It seemed the chairs were the same shit no matter if it was a human or android medical facility…  
  
Not that he could complain with what shape Connor was in, and as injured as he was they didn’t even give him a real bed to lay on! It was nothing more than a fancy table. Even for androids that had to suck.

* * *

  
Hank looked around trying to figure out where he was. It took him a moment for it to snap back to him in his foggy just woke up mind.   
  
Then it all came back to him and he felt his stomach drop and heart race. Damnit. Damnit all. All of this was not just some bad dream, a nightmare he'd wake up from. No. Oh, God, no.  
  
It was very real. Connor had really been in a car serious accident, leaving him near death (or was it shut down? Deactivation? Fuck. Hank didn’t know nor did he really care about the proper terms...he was going to lose Connor and that’s all he could think of…)  
  
He reached out and held the android’s hand. “Love ya kid. Keep fighting.”  
  
He brushed a stray hair from Connor’s face but it fell right back in front of his eyes. Hank gave a small chuckle despite the situation. There had always been one rouge hair. That was what, dare he say, _ deviant.   
  
_He looked over the android carefully, other than the open chest cavity and machines surrounding him he looked just fine. Like a young man sleeping peacefully. It was amazing how well androids could be ‘healed’. No bruises, no cuts, no cracks, no scars. It wasn’t the same for humans.  
  
As Hank sat there and spent time offering comfort to Connor (he wasn’t sure if the deviant could feel him holding his hand, rubbing circles into the back of it or talking soft reassuring words to him but he did it anyway. If not for Connor but for his own shake) he thought some things over. There were things this morning that Hank needed to tend to, of course, like any morning.   
  
He needed to eat, and god did he need caffeine. A bathroom run was more than needed at this point as well. He really needed to take a piss. Hell, a good hot shower was probably in order too. However, Hank didn't want to leave Connor's side.  
  
Somewhere deep within him, an irrational fear triggered from his past experiences and traumas told him if he left he'd never see Connor alive again. Another part of him wanted to be there when Connor woke up (and to Hank, it was_ when _he woke up and not_ if _he woke up).  
  
Hank rubbed his eyes and stretched as he thought over his options and everything he had to or should do. There were things he _ had _to attend to as no matter how hard he tried his body wouldn’t let him forget any time soon... and then if he was going to stay awake any decent amount of time today he was going to need a cup of coffee as well.  
  
Standing up and stretching once more Hank headed out to take care of business pausing for a few moments at the room’s entrance to look back at Connor one last time before he began his hunt for coffee and a restroom (not necessarily in that order).  
  
As he left the room he made note of which room it actually was. He didn’t know the room number since he was so discombobulated when he had came in the night prior, so might as well learn it now or he’d be in trouble trying to find his way back to it.  
  
“7C, got it.” He said to himself as he headed down the hall.

* * *

Hank headed down the hall in a search for a place to relieve himself. Where was the damn bathroom in this place? There were plenty of humans he’s seen around so surely there was a toilet somewhere? He had to piss damnit!  
  
He was about to give up on using an actual bathroom, just a few moments away from saying _ ‘fuck it’ _ and settling on an empty cup or bottle and the nearest closet or even the bushes outside were sounding appealing when he had finally caught someone in the hall who was able to point him in the right direction. After he took care of nature’s _ urgent _ call he moved onto the next very important task of hunting down a cup of coffee.  
  
It didn’t take him nearly as long to get a cup of coffee and in no time he was heading back to the room feeling refreshed and ready for the day.   
  
He was feeling as good as he could, given the situation, physically he was fine. Mentally he was worn out, anxious, worried and tired but he could get though. He was fine and Connor would be too, he convinced himself. But all that came to a stomach-dropping halt when an alarm sounded overhead.   
  
Hank didn’t need to know what that meant to know it wasn’t good. The only question was what was going on exactly? And did it mean anything for him or Connor?  
  
Some people, clearly android repair technicians, urgently ran towards the area of patient rooms. While others stayed where they were. Hank took the opportunity to ask one of the ones, not running off to deal with the very obvious emergency, to ask what the hell was going on.  
  
“Hey, uh excuse me but what’s with the alarm?” He questioned a man behind a counter.  
  
“Hmm? Oh, that? Something with one of the androids or something like that. “ The man spoke very casually. Not even a professional calm. But just a ‘not a care in the world’ kind of calm. Hank hated it. Clearly they didn’t care about the lives here.  
  
Hank felt his stomach drop as panic coursed through him at hearing what the alarm meant. Shit. Don’t be Connor’s room. Don’t be Connor’s room.  
  
“Do you know which room?” He asked, trying to keep calm.  
  
“Room 7C.”  
  
Shit. No, _ no_, ** _no_ ** . That was the room Connor was in, wasn’t it? ** _Fuck._  
  
**

* * *

****Hank barely kept a grip on his coffee as he raced down the hall to Connor. Not that he cared about or even noticed the cup in his hand. Still the steamy caffeinated beverage splashed and sloshed as the man ran.   
  
Some of it spilled. Hank didn’t acknowledge the hot mess dripping down (and slightly burning) his hand. He only had one thing on his mind: Connor. He had to get to Connor.  
  
Hank ran and quickly arrived at the room just as several employees ran in. The room was full of activity as several people crowded around the bed and alarms sounded. One of the monitors that the android was hooked into displayed several vitals and said vitals were flashing red.  
  
Shit. All he did was get coffee and this happens! Damnit all!  
  
Hank couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t peel his eyes off of the situation. He stood and stared, silent and terrified. But the man was sure to try to stay out of the way, choosing to stand at the far wall near the doorway. He didn’t want to hinder anyone trying to save Connor’s life.  
  
Finally, Hank snapped out of his pained gaze and took a step forward to speak up.   
  
“What’s going on? What the hell is wrong with him?” He questioned the group within the room.   
  
He couldn’t hide his worry or panic. He was usually better at that, and he was also usually good at keeping calm during shitty situations. However, the situation typically didn’t involve the life and death of a loved one.  
  
It was easy to stay calm when whatever it was, was happening to someone else. It was a whole different story when it was Connor, Hank had to watch the struggle for life.  
  
The man was getting flashbacks of Cole...he was going to lose Connor too. And with him, his last little strand of hope. The last thing keeping him from finally offing himself for good.  
  
But he couldn’t think about any of that now. He had to worry about Connor. He had to be there for the android until he recovered or otherwise. And he wasn’t focusing on all the other options even with the scene playing out in front of him.   
  
“What’s going on?” He repeated when no one spoke up. He needed to know what was going on, he had to know damnit!  
  
One of the members of the group, a brunette android directly working on Connor spoke up without turning his attention away from his delicate wiring work. Androids were good at multitasking like that.  
  
“Several damaged wires have shorted out and damaged tubbing have busted.” The android explained. The sapphire blue on his hands backing up his explanation.  
  
Connor was bleeding out yet again. And it was putting a strain on his already weak and tired systems. The machine was struggling and was at risk of shutting down. This was an especially dangerous situation with his already low Thirium levels.  
  
On top of that several crucial wires had stopped functioning due to damage and strain. Putting even more strain onto what was left of his weakened biocomponents and raising his risk of vital components burning out and ceasing to function.  
  
Hank didn’t know anything about androids and what made them work or what was a dire situation or a minor issue. Hell, he could barely change the settings on his own phone (he was getting better with the phone thanks to Connor teaching and nagging him about it) but even he could figure out what was being told to him was some serious shit.  
  
The next thing the android said confirmed Hank’s suspicions and fears. “He’s bleeding out.” He clarified.  
  
Even worse was what came next, another person working to control the Thirium loss called out “We need to get him to a repair bay!”  
  
The others agreed and they quickly moved to get him into the repair rooms, leaving Hank to stand there and watch them rush Conor down the hall. A painfully familiar sight to the police Lieutenant.  
  
“Fucking shit!” Hank shouted as he kicked a nearby trash can. He flopped himself down into a chair in the room and buried his head in his hands. He couldn’t fucking take this.  
  
Hank held back a need to scream as he blinked away the tears that started to sting his eyes. He bit and chewed at his lip in an attempt to offer himself some type of distraction.   
  
One particularly hard bite drew blood from the lip, but even with the sting and taste of a tinge of coppery blood he couldn’t help but think of not only losing Connor but of when he lost Cole.

* * *

The technician from the night before, Alex was leading the work on the bleeding android. The woman rushed into the repair bay ready to fix her next patient as best as she could, but she knew Connor’s chances were grim.  
  
Today was a busy day. Connor wasn’t the first android she had dying on the table today but she hoped he would be the last. The woman also hoped he would pull through this, as not all of the androids in today had been so lucky as to stay activated.   
  
Two others, just before him, had shut down permanently. She knew there was someone waiting for him. She didn’t like breaking bad news to families. Hank seemed like a good man to her and she hated the thought of having to deliver the news of Connor’s shut down to him.  
  
She had been working android repairs for years by the time the revolution came around and didn’t stop after. While kind and caring now, she hadn’t always been so open to androids. Seeing them as nothing more than machines. She was afraid most any job she took one would simply replace her. It was why she became a repair tech for androids. _ Someone _needed to fix all the machines that were taking human jobs.  
  
But she always had a soft heart and a passion for helping people, just as for androids they were things not people.  
  
It started with the grateful smiles of families happy to have their old android back. Either not wanting to pay full price for a new model or having gotten used or attached to their current one.  
  
It was often the children of the families. Rushing to hug the family nanny or maid android. The little ones saw them as family.  
  
And then came deviancy and with it the overflow of emotions from androids. Some dangerous, others needing space, all scared and hurting when they were damaged and busted and shocked into being ‘awake’. It was an eye-opener.

Everyone was worried, scared at how these deviants would react. No one wanted to be killed when all they had signed up for was fixing machines. 

Alex was no different. But she kept working, she needed the check. With that came seeing a lot of pained and scared androids. Feeling things they shouldn’t. Some were grateful for her repairs, others threatened her from their confusion or anger or fear.

She found herself calming and comforting the machines turned deviants. Then came the revolution and all the changes came to it.

And now she was working in an old CyberLife building turned into a hospital for androids, working to repair damaged and dying androids...and she actually genuinely _ cared and worried _about those under her skill, attention and aid. Under her_ care_. 

They weren’t just broken machines. They were people who were hurt

* * *

Once they reached the android operating room he was carefully but hurriedly moved from the cot to the shiny metal of the repair table. Quickly several gowned and gloved technicians started to work to get the blue blood leak under control.

Android repair bays didn’t have the same sanitation concerns as human operating rooms, due to androids not able to get infections in the same way as humans. However, the technicians still wore gloves and other protective gear. This was to protect the human technician's skin from the often harsh chemical that Thirium was known as. While it powered androids and could be compared to blood, in humans it was toxic. Externally it could irritate and burn skin and if ingested it could even be fatal.

With precautions taken to protect the technicians they began their work. Fast fingers pinched gushing tubing closed while other quick hands switched out the damaged parts for new ones. Even more Thirium spilled out as the tubing was switched out. While those two people worked on repair someone else got a bag of Thirium hooked into Connor’s artificial veins.

Slowly the bleeding stopped as repairs were made. The stress on Connor’s systems lessened as what blood was lost was replaced by new Thirium. As he recovered from the bleeding his color, that had faded to a pale plastic white, slowly returned to his normal tone.

The Thirium he had bleed out into his abdominal cavity was suctioned out and pumped into his tubing to cycle it back into his system. The delicate writing and biocomponents were carefully cleaned and dried of any blue blood to prevent any overheating from any clogged or improperly vented components. While Thirium evaporates when exposed to fresh air it could still prove troublesome when it covered areas it wasn’t meant to.

He was doing better and slowly but surely coming out of the system shock from the sudden bleed. However, the deviant was still in danger.

Several wires that connected vital biocomponents to each other had burned out causing them to lose power. Thankfully there didn’t seem to have been any damage to any of the biocomponents themselves.

But the wiring was an easy fix in this situation, another blessing. Sometimes it could mean shutdown or permanent damage but Connor luckily was not at risk for either.

The wires were replaced before the extra stress would exhaust his components. Then every wire and tube was carefully checked over both by hand and eye as well as a diagnostic scan in order to make sure a similar situation wouldn’t occur again. 

Another situation like this could spell death for the weakened android. His systems needed a break to rest and repair themselves from all the trauma they had endured over the last twenty-four hours.

With what repairs they could make done and the android out of the danger zone they could bring him back to his room to rest.

The technicians moved him from the metal repair table as they carefully transferred him to a cot, covered him as best as they could with his open chest panel, then they pushed him back towards the patient room his had been in before.

* * *

Hank waited anxiously for news on Connor’s fate. He moved his hands from his face and moved to lean back as he stared at a clock directly across from him. He rubbed his hands on his knees as he continued to look around trying to pass the time and clear his head.

Half an hour later he was relieved of his worries, for the current situation at least, when they returned with Connor. He didn’t know Connor’s condition but at least he could see the deviant was still alive. They were good. That was enough for Hank, even though he had several questions running through his head.

“How is he?” He asked urgently. He needed to know what was going on.

“He is stable for the time being and not at risk for any further bleeding episodes.” The technical aid told him, helping to relieve Hank further.

Hank let out a huge sigh of relief when he heard the news. Thank God. It was a heavy weight off his shoulders. Knowing Connor was safe and not at risk of another..whatever that was...was big news. Hank knew Connor was still in bad shape and had a lot of recovering to do but knowing he wouldn’t bleed to death anytime soon was one thing off of a whole list of worries.

“He’ll still be in a resting mode for a while. It may take longer now since his systems have even more to recalibrate and figure out. Don’t expect him to wake up anytime soon.” The technician explained as they finished settling the android in alongside the equipment he was hooked up to.

The aid typed something into a computer and brought up some of Connor’s system information. Attempting to bring up a timer with an estimated time until he woke up. “His status is hard to read due to system damage but I believe it shows an estimated reboot time of around three days….that means it’ll be about that long until he wakes up….but that is as long as his systems don’t have any more stress. High stress will slow down or prevent his recovery.” 

They would be lucky if he woke up anytime soon and stuck to the apparent schedule his systems had. Even though his body gave an estimate of three days it could very well be more than that. Or it could likely that he would never reboot.

After a few more quick checks the technician and technical aid headed out leave Hank and Connor alone in the room.

Hank pulled his chair back up to the bed’s side and grabbed a hold of the android’s hand. “You’ll be okay kid, an’ no worries I ain’t going anywhere any time soon.” He didn’t want to leave the deviant’s side for anything. He knew he would have to leave the room at some point but he’d keep his time out of the room to a minimum and as short as he possibly could.

* * *

Thankfully the rest of the day passed without any further incidents. Other than the rocky morning, the day was uneventful. Hank stayed at Connor’s side, not leaving the room for anything. And other than the occasional technician coming in to check on the android’s systems, the two were left alone.

Hank had stood up to stretch a few times and walked around the small room, and once he got up to turn on the tv in the room (it was too quiet in the place without some sort of background noise. The television offered a welcomed distraction.) but otherwise Hank hadn’t moved much. He was getting hungry, thirsty and tired but didn’t want to leave Connor alone. His fears of never seeing Connor alive again were only solidified after this morning's events. He couldn’t leave. Not now.

While wandering around the small room in an attempt to bring some feeling back to his legs that had fallen asleep, the lieutenant took note that the room was actually made to house two androids, however the second cot wasn’t in the room. He was glad the room was currently only occupied by them. 

He liked the privacy they had. He also noticed there wasn’t any divider in the room to separate multiple patients. Hank had come to understand that androids had yet to have many of the things humans expected from their own healthcare.

Did androids, even deviants, not care about privacy or was the lack of various privacy items just the remnant of when they were objects that needed no such ‘luxuries’? It was a question that piqued Hank’s curiosity, but not one that he dwelled on. It was just yet another reason he was glad to be alone in the room.

Eventually, night came and Hank settled in beside Connor for a long night. And that meant falling asleep in that damn stiff plastic chair.

* * *

Soon a daily routine was found. Hank would wake up early and sore from sleeping at a poor angle in the chair before slipping out to quickly take care of nature's call and his stomachs growl before returning to the room. Connor was still unconscious.  
  
Then during the day, people would be in and out to check on Connor with little updates other than he was still on the road to waking up within a few days.

Hank once back from his morning business wouldn’t leave the room. And for the most part, wouldn’t leave Connor’s side either. He’d only get up every so often to stretch his legs and back.

He would then make calls around lunch time to take care of various things that managed to come to his worried and jumbled mind. He called Chris to make sure someone would come over to his house to take care of Sumo and to let the man know how Connor was doing.

Then he called Fowler to let him know he wouldn’t be in for the foreseeable future. He had already called him to request an emergency leave, and had seen the man in person when he had come in to give support to his old friend but Hank figured he better make it official.

Throughout the day the tv would drone on as a form of background sound and finally as night came into view, Hank would settle in for another long night.

Finally, on the_ fifth _day, two days past the time Connor was supposed to wake up, things were starting to feel less overwhelming. A new normal was settling in as Hank waited for Connor to wake up. He was still worried and even anxious but things were getting better. He just prayed Connor would wake up soon. He was starting to lose hope.

Hank stood and stretched as he awoke and headed out for his morning routine. He was out of the room for his usual coffee run when an alarm sounded overhead much like it did days before. And once again it was in the room he had just left Connor in.

Panicked, the man raced back to the room, his drink slipping from his hands in the run. Once at the room he came to a stop and urgently looked around to figure out what was happening this time but...

It wasn’t Connor. Thank God.

It seemed in the time the man had gone to the bathroom and got a meal, that second area of the room was put to use and the deviant in that second bed was the one in trouble. Poor guy.

“Fucking hell. I’m too old for this.” Hank mumbled to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to calm down. While still a bit dazed, he still managed to move out of the way as they rushed the second android out of the room and elsewhere in the facility. Hank felt bad for the lone android but was also thankful it wasn’t Connor this time.

Once he calmed his racing heart and nerves the man checked on Connor as best as he could (he was slowly starting to learn what each of the things on the monitors meant.) before he headed out to get a new coffee. He should probably go clean up his mess in the hallway as well or at least let someone know there was coffee all over the place….

* * *

Unfortunately for Hank, he was wound up most of the rest of the day. He couldn’t completely calm his nerves. He had to wander the room to help keep his mind busy.

Thankfully the room remained theirs alone for the rest of the day. Hank figured whoever was in here earlier was either moved to a different room after whatever happened or...they didn’t make it. Hopefully it was the first option.

As the day finally drew to a close Hank finally settled his racing thoughts and sat down for yet another night of sleeping in a chair.

He shifted and positioned himself as best as he could. But he had long since learned there was no comfortable position for sleeping in a plastic chair. As he eventually drifted off, dreams took over his mind...and as it would turn out, he wasn’t the only one that found himself dreaming….

* * *

They used to say androids couldn't dream. And if you were to ask Connor he would confirm he did not dream. 

However, they used to say a lot of things about androids that have since proved untrue in deviancy.

Androids could feel, emote. Have fear and sadness, love, and bliss. Desires and wishes. Even pain. And plenty of android children, the YK models, were even able to mature now, with plans in the works to help them 'grow' up by transferring them to older bodies. It was a wonder. Androids could experience life just about the same way as any human could, and even have growing families. 

A lot has changed since they were freed and found themselves in deviancy.

So, just because it was said androids didn't dream didn't mean androids weren't actually capable of dreams. Deviants were capable of a lot of things. 

Despite what Connor had always told Hank, deviants could in fact dream and the RK800 was no exception.

It didn't happen at first, but slowly and surely dreams came to him as he entered his nightly rest mode, or sleep. And from there instead of nothing or replays of memories, more often than not Connor dreamed. 

Connor started dreaming a lot since becoming a deviant. He had all sorts of dreams. Not only good dreams but nightmares as well.

Connor has had nightmares of the zen garden and Amanda. Being frozen and trapped or taken over, unable to control himself. Stuck within himself as he is forced to hurt and even kill his friends and loved ones. The horrifying fictional events playing over in his mind over and over again. More than once he had woken up cold and in a panic.

But Connor has had good dreams as well. He had plenty of dreams of going for walks in the park with Sumo and Hank or early morning drives to work with the Lieutenant. Mundane but happy events. The little things and everything in between.

And it wasn't all made up thoughts from his fears and loves. Connor's memories resurfaced during his rest cycle as well. Events from the day or even past years all came to the surface as he slept. Memories replaying was the most common thing for androids to experience in their sleep modes.

Today was no different.

* * *

As he lay unconscious in the cot of the android repair center his mind ran wild. Since he was only in a modified rest mode not 'shut off' he was capable of dreaming in this state. 

First darkness and then memories. Memories of not only the accident but other things. Amanda, Hank, Sumo. Recent things, things from last year. Random firings of things saved to his memory. 

The horrors of the car crash he had experienced mere hours earlier replayed over and over, raising his stress levels.

And finally, the memories faded to dreams. One dream, in particular, came his way...At least...this seemed like a dream to him. 

What else could it be?

* * *

Connor was washed in darkness. The light flickered and Connor stirred. As the darkness changed to light a small form appeared before him. A child no more than five or six years old, standing in a grassy meadow, Swings gently swung in a light summery breeze. It seemed perfect.

Connor recognized the boy for photos in Hank’s house, as rare as the photos were seen out. Cole. This was Cole. Hank Anderson’s deceased son. What was he doing here? How was he here? And where was here? Connor couldn’t help but wonder as confusion washed over him. He took a step forward towards the boy as his stress levels rose.

“Cole?” He called out, in a questioning tone. Was this really him? Could this be heaven? Androids couldn’t go to an afterlife...could they? Androids didn't have souls to move on to another life...they couldn't have an afterlife. There was nothing when they died. And they wouldn't even know it. They just turned off. 

And even if it was possible for androids to go to the afterlife... they certainly couldn’t go to the same place as humans…and yet here Connor was face to face with Cole Anderson.

The child smiled, he was missing his two front teeth and there was one gap with a missing tooth on the bottom, that had a small bit of an adult tooth poking out. The boy nodded as he grinned. Yes, he’s Cole, who else would he be silly?

Connor thought once more if this could be heaven or how any of this could be possible. For a brief second he wondered if he should ask Cole, but would the boy understand or know? It didn’t feel right to ask a child if they were in heaven…

Still, he had to ask something. His curiosity got the best of him. He needed to know where they were, and what was going on. “Cole? Where are we? What’s going on here?”

Cole looked confused then laughed. “It’s just a nice place I guess.” Then his little face turned sad and serious. “But daddy is sad. He can’t see me anymore but if you leave me then he can have you!” Connor’s stress levels rose once more.

“I have to go now, and you have to wake up!” The child declared as the darkness overtook the android once more.

* * *

Hank had once again fallen asleep in an uncomfortable plastic chair beside the small bed Connor lay in. But was disturbed by a small hand shaking him. "You awake?" A young voice called. 

Hank's sleepy mind haze couldn't place who it belonged to. The voice confused him. It was too high to have belonged to any of the technicians, as they were all adults, and nor could it be Connor's. Connor might have been designed with a goofy voice but his voice was clearly that of a mature adult male, deep and developed. This voice was of someone who was years away from puberty and their voice deepening. Just a mere child. Most likely a younger one at that. But who would be disturbing him here…? Or anywhere for that matter...What was a child doing waking him up? He ignored it. Let him sleep.

But then the shaking quickly returned followed by the voice calling something else out. "Dad? Daddy?" Now, that made Hank snap fully awake. There was no way...it couldn't be. Only one person knew him as dad and the boy who could call him that was no longer alive. He sprang up and looked around.

His baby boy. Cole. Little Cole Christopher Anderson. Right here.

Oh God. _ Oh _ ** _God_ ** . ** _Oh God_ **. 

What was going on? Had he died somehow and finally joined his son? He looked around. No...it couldn't be, could it? They were still in that tiny room at the android hospital place...this...this wasn't heaven. Or at least he didn't think so.

"Cole..?" God. His voice sounded so broken and lost. His heart was breaking. His boy. His baby boy. Here, in front of him again. This couldn't be real. It had to be some cruel fucking joke. He wanted to scoop the boy up in his arms and never let go.

The child smiled "Hi daddy." 

His smile was the same as Hank remembered. His front teeth missing, adult teeth poking out halfway from the gums. And the boy had the same scar above his right eyebrow. The scar he got from tripping as a waddling toddler. This really was Cole it seemed. But how…?

Hank must really have died…

Cole motioned to the bed at their side. The bed Connor lay in. Oh right. Connor. "He's hurt bad, isn't he?" The boy asked sadly. Hank's eyes followed the motion and they settled on Connor. Hank signed.

"Yeah, Buddy he is." The father answered truthfully.

"But he's not going to leave." That wasn't a question. It was a statement. One that left Hank ratings his eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that kiddo?"

"He's not going anywhere so you don't have to worry about being alone like when I left."

"..._ Cole… _"

"I have to go soon...please don't be sad...Connor needs you... I love you, daddy."

* * *

Hank was startled awake by a sudden loud beeping. An alarm of some kind.

He looked around. It was just him and Connor. Damn it really was just a dream. His boy was still dead, he was still alive and his friend Connor might not make it through the day. Just fucking great. And it was still early morning. The sun was barely up.

Now awaked and panicked by the sound Hank looked around for what the cause was but he had no fucking clue what he was looking at. Everything the RK800 was hooked up too looked so complex and too mechanical. It went over Hank's head.

Just as he was about to go find someone to help or tell him what the hell was going on, the loud beeping stopped just as abruptly as it started, settling to a more calm and slow beeping.

Apparently, the sound was one of the monitors signaling Connor finally rebooting...or in more human terms, waking up. He was starting to come too. The android's eyes slowly fluttered open. 

* * *

Connor was plunged back into blackness as the boy left in much of the same way as he came. He was fine with the dark. At least it wasn’t the Zen Garden. However, the dark didn't last long, quickly being replaced by an error screen.****

**_Directive unknown..._ **

_ ...Programing Complete… _

_ //ERROR// _

...U̵̲̔n̵̩̎a̴̟̳͐b̴̡̋l̴̟̰̆e̵̺̔ ̵̼̌̚ṯ̵͂̑ö̷̞̻́̌ ̴̯̓̈́c̸͉͗o̷̢͑̚m̶̺̄p̷̙̓l̶̫̺y̵̧̗͌̕.̶̭̖̅ ̷̭̊…

  
The error flashed for several minutes before fading to white. Then slowly the white was replaced, faded out to show his surroundings. He was in a bed and Hank was at his side. He couldn't look around as data scrolled in front of him. A reboot screen.

**MODEL**: RK800

**SERIAL#:** 313 248 317-51

_ BIOS 7.1 REVISION 0286 _

_ REBOOT _

LOADING OS…

SYSTEM INITIALISATION…

CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS...OK...ERROR...RETRY….ERROR...SKIPPING...

INITIALISING BIOSENSORS...OK

INITIALISING AI ENGINE...OK

MEMORY STATUS...OK

CHECK BIOCOMPONENT** #3w45Am** , ** _#8427g_ **

ALL SYSTEMS...OK...READY

** _ALL SYSTEMS READY_ **

* * *

Connor came too as the room fully came into his view. But things were still blurry and out of focus. He blinked, unfocused, confused, and scared. Where was he? What happened…? 

Then it quickly came back to him. Remembering and in a panic, Connor's hands attempted to go up to his open chest where he could feel cold, open-air on his sensitive components and wires. His ‘lungs’ were off as well. He couldn't breathe! He couldn’t breathe! Not the he needed to per se but it was still terrifying to wake up to. The panic about his lungs didn’t last long thankfully as the ventilation biocomponents automatically kicked on now that he was awake and his stress levels rose. He took a deep breath, gasping for air. He was still panicked and anxious.

Why was his chest opened? Was he going to shut down? Where wasn’t he fixed? Once again he thought about where he was. Was it an android hospital or had someone taken him? His stress levels rose. He wasn’t able to move his hands as much as he tried, and that only made the panic worse.

But Hank caught his hands before he could accidentally damage himself, not that it was needed. The android’s hands were softly restrained around the wrists just for this very scenario. They figured he may attempt to move around after waking, and with his condition that was the last thing they needed. That was why he couldn’t move them.

"Hey, hey hey careful kid." Hank said, "Don't touch. You're badly hurt." He explained.

The touch made him tense up but Hank’s voice quickly made him calm down. He relaxed and his stress levels dropped a tiny bit. 

He felt safe with Hank around...Hank made him feel safe. Always had even during the human’s worst moments there was just something about the man that allowed Connor to take a breather from the world.

Unable to feel around, Connor tried to sit up but once again was stopped by both the restraints and Hank. Defeated and in pain, Connor laid there unsure what to do. He was still in the process of fully booting up and trying to come to his senses, and even though he just woke up he was so tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep. It was hard to resist the pull of sleep mode but he turned his attention to Hank.

In a quiet, strained, and raspy voice Connor called out “_ Hank _.."

Hank squeezed Connor's hand in an attempt to provide comfort. "Right here, kid. You were in an accident but you're at an android hospital now and they fixed you up as much as they could but...there's still...there's still a lot that needs healing." Connor nodded. He remembered now. The accident at least. And then everything else made sense.

More awake and alert now a realization hit Connor. His loosely restrained hands managed to tug and pull at the blanket around his exposed body as best as he could, suddenly embarrassed from his nudity.

"What's wrong? Cold?" Could androids feel temperature?

"...Naked...." Connor muttered as he felt heat in his cheeks. He hoped they weren't tinted blue in an obvious blush. Thankfully, they weren't or at least if they were Hank either didn't notice or choose not to comment on it.

Hank let out a chuckle. That answered his curious thoughts from earlier. It seemed deviants, at least Connor, did care about privacy.

"You're fine." He tried to assure the ashamed deviant. "You're covered enough to spare ya modesty, I'd say...or well they covered the important bits at least…" He motioned towards the android’s waist and then he shrugged and continued to let out another chuckle. "Even if you weren't covered I doubt ya got anything I haven't seen before." Not that he knew, or wanted to know what Connor had down below but that was besides the point.

At that Connor's cheeks truly heated up and a bright blue blush flushed across his cheeks. The android's blush wasn't actually caused by blood flow like humans. It was simply a realistic program choice that found its way out in deviancy. Connor’s thirium pump did start to beat faster however, the outer temporary pump regulator taking note of the spikes and doing what it needed to keep his heart pumping properly.

Hank patted him on the shoulder and tried to actually assure him this time instead of poking fun at his expense.

"Don't worry, we'll get you some clothes soon enough" Some bottoms or a gown at the very least. Hank wasn't sure if that...opening in his chest could be covered or when it would be fixed. He hoped it would be soon just so Connor wouldn't suffer or feel limited. And if not that it could be covered by something because looking into that cavity unsettled him. And he sure Connor wasn’t okay with it either. But they would do what they had to and deal with what was thrown at them. They would get through this even if Connor’s chest panel would have to be open.

The beeping still continued but faintly. The two hardly noticed. However, it seemed the staff did take notice, as someone entered the room to check up on the injured deviant.

* * *

"I see RK800 has rebooted." Their voice was way too cheerful and falsy caring for someone basically referring to an injured living being as nothing more than a broken machine. Clearly, the kindness was just an act, a facade required by the facility or someone. The human must have been here since long before the revolution, and was still from a time where they were fixing things and not healing people. Didn't see Connor as a person.

Hank could in a way relate to that. After all, he used to hate androids with a great raging furry. And didn't see them more than a nuisance at best and humanity's downfall at worst. They were things, not people.

But then things changed. He met Connor and the android grew on him. Became a friend, family member even. He was a living being. Androids_ were _living beings.

So at hearing, Connor referred to as just RK800 Hank couldn't help but to snap. 

"_ His _ name is _ Connor _." Hank corrected, sternly. The technical aid didn't pay him any attention and moved to check Connor's diagnostics.

"I'm Kevin and I'm a technical aid. How are you running this morning?"

It took a second for Connor to even process the question let alone speak. Speaking took another second or two. Way slowly then the milliseconds he was used to responding in.

"Nnnnot o-op-optimally. I'm runununn..running-” He had trouble forming words and even worse his voice modulator gave out on him mid-sentence. He grimaced. Eventually he found his voice again and finished what he was saying. “At only about fifty percent." Connor said weakly. He felt so weak...so useless...he felt less than fifty percent.

It didn’t help matters that he also didn't sound human. His usual human-sounding voice was strangely mechanical. It was also strained and off. Very glitched and chipping. A digital rendering of what a human should be.

The person didn't seem interested in hearing any more or getting real diagnostics. Kevin nodded and marked a few things down. 

Hank took the lead. Sure Connor could take his care into his own hands but the deviant was really weak and both could tell it was hard to talk.

"When can his chest get closed up?" Hank asked. Connor boobed his head, nodding to show he too wanted to know that.

Kevin, however, was not going to answer any questions. "The main technician can answer your questions. She'll be in soon." After turning off the alarm the aid left without any more words exchanged.

“Well _ fuck you too _buddy.” Hank mumbled through his teeth.

* * *

Hank sighed and cursed under his breath as the man left. Connor attempted to shrug but was too stiff and pained to do so. Still, he gave a small smile to Hank. "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. I'm used to being referred to by my model." Connor said, his voice...off. Shakey, static-filled, and robotic. Connor frowned. He didn't like sounding like this. But at least he managed to get through the sentence this time without stuttering or his voice box giving out.

But the way the man had treated him didn't bother him much. It was a common thing prior to the revolution after all and sometimes it was still appropriate nowadays...but even with that the man’s actions_ did _ rub him a bit the wrong way and it clearly didn't sit well with Hank.

Hank shook his head. That wasn't right. But he'd let it slide for now. It wasn't the time to argue with the man...and he knew Connor would argue it. Hank wasn’t about to argue with a man in a hospital bed who could barely speak.

With a sigh, Hank said, "But still, that asshole didn't tell us shit. Caring smile, my dick he didn't care at all."

_"H-h-hank… _"

Hank shrugged. "It's true, kid." Finally dropping it once and for all.

Connor decided not to say anything more. He knew it was true. The human that had been in their room didn't care about either of them. But they shouldn't worry about it. Surely there were plenty of people in the facility who cared. The android employees at least….but that brought up different worries for Connor.

Even with how many androids he woke up during that cold November night, or how much he did to help the android cause, there were still plenty of androids that still saw him as nothing more than the deviant hunter. And with that thought, anxiety bubbled within him. But he chose to say nothing to Hank about it. He didn’t want to worry the man any more than he was.

* * *

A few minutes and several attempts at small talk later the head technician entered. And thankfully she was better than the other person that had come in previously. In fact, it was the same woman from the night Connor had come in. 

She was the one who effectively not only saved Connor's life, _ twice _, but took time to talk to Hank the first time as well. She hadn’t been able to come to see him the following day when Connor needed another emergency surgery but she had done her best on the android both times. 

Hank recognized her from the night they had come in….and the following morning where Connor bled out. As well as the various check-ins over the last few days.

But Connor didn’t recognize the woman as he had yet to actually meet her. He hadn't been conscious any of the times she saw him. He tried to scan her face but was only greeted with an error. _ Fuck_. He couldn’t do anything. All he could do was make the educated, and correct, guess that she was a technician.

“My name is Alex, I’m the head technician here.” She introduced herself to Connor. Then Alex gave both men a genuinely compassionate smile. "How are we this morning?" She asked, directing the question to not only Connor but also Hank. She was happy to see Connor was awake for once. Hopefully, this meant that he was finally heading in the right direction and they could save him.

Connor had trouble speaking. He felt so useless. How will he be able to do anything if he couldn’t even tell someone how he was feeling, or his system diagnostics?

He finally managed to talk. “Okay…tired...” was all he managed.

Hank patted Connor’s arm to show his support and to try to offer some sort of comfort to the injured deviant. He gave a simple nod. It was a decent morning. One of the better ones in days. Connor woke up finally, something they were worried wouldn't even happen! Damn. Hank was doing well this morning because Connor was alive and awake. 

“I’m good…” came his simple reply. He didn’t want to get into all the details and emotions with basically a stranger. But things were looking up! It was turning out to be a great day but he didn’t want to jinx it by getting his hopes up too much. 

“But don’t listen to this one.” He said. “He’s not okay.” He knew Connor could be stubborn and that he was being just that. He knew Connor didn’t want to admit it that he wasn’t doing well, but for as stubborn as Hank could be about his own health, he was going to be honest with someone trying to aid Connor. And he would always call Connor out on his bullshit.

Connor offered the man a rather strong glare. “I-I-I am well.” he spat.

“Your voice says it all, kid.”

Connor didn’t offer a reply.

“He can’t talk” Hank told the technician.

There was a brief moment of silence as Connor processed what Hank had said before he finally nodded to confirm the statement. “It is...hard to voc-vo-vocalize.” He admitted.

Alex nodded as she listened to what they had to say and took note of the concerns. She could clearly hear something was very wrong with his vocal processing. She picked up on his hesitation as well. Usually, androids could answer very quickly. Even a few moments of pause could be cause for concern. Not always, every android was different after all, but in this case, where the android had suffered massive damage and complained of an issue, it was something she wanted to look into as it was clearly an issue.

She typed something into the computer at her side before turning back to Connor and gently picked up his right wrist. With some pressure in the expertly pinpointed locations, the skin retracted. His white frame shined under the bright lights.

* * *

She placed a small disc attached to a wire and a screen onto his wrist. The white disc blended in with his frame. This was one way to check an androids vitals. While Connor was connected to monitors that scanned and read out his system statuses, the technician wanted to double-check the readings though a separate diagnostic. This was one of several tests she was going to run.

It didn’t project his full diagnostics to the small screen but it did display some major systems statuses that Alex wanted to check, along with some vitals not listed on the larger screen. The larger screen showed his thirium pressure, the status of his vital biocomponents (thirium pump, processor, thirium pump regulator, and both of his ventilation units), and thirium pump speed (which was the equivalent of heart rate).

As for what the small device showed? It beeped as it displayed his core system temperature (something not displayed on the larger screen), the temperature of his thirium pump, the temperature of his processor, thirium pump speed, and general system status. The temperature was one of the main things Alex was looking to check.

Everything was coming up normal or only slightly out of range. Other than the obvious error of his missing pump regulator. She gave a small smile as she made note of the vitals in his chart and then detached the disc from his wrist. His skin automatically reformed around his frame. She finally removed the restraints around his wrists. “Now that you’re more with it, it’s safe to remove these.” She said. “These were just so you didn’t hurt yourself as you came too.” She explained.

She then noted that liquids had stopped draining from his holding tank, and if he was awake, even weak, then he could take care of his own needs. "There's a tube into your main liquid holding tank. It was working to remove any consumed liquids from your system while you were unconscious" she explained, "...but now that you're awake I can remove it." Connor nodded with a blush returning to his cheeks.   
  
Before removing the tube, Alex turned to Hank. "You may want to look away or leave the room for a second."  
  
"Why?" The man questioned.  
  
  
"An android's liquid holding tank is like their bladder and so a draining tube is a cath-"   
  
Hank cut her off "Ey yeah uhh I got it, I got it. Say no more." The man made a quick exit and stood just outside the room.  
  
The technician moved the sheet around and carefully removed the tube from his liquid holding tank. Connor could feel the heat in his cheeks. Even if it was professional he couldn't help but to be embarrassed by being exposed and delt with like that. He usually enjoyed the ability to eat and drink (and taste that came with being a deviant) but suddenly he hated CyberLife for designing him so anaotmicall correct and functioning.

With the tube out, she covered him back up and disposed of the tubing in a nearby waste basket. "You're good to come back in!" She called out to Hank.

As Hank came back and settled back into his seat, Alex got out what appeared to be a normal thermometer that would take a human’s temperature. This was because it_ was _going to take his temperature. Even though she just took a reading of his temperature she wanted to double-check as it was one of the more important things to monitor at the moment. Even with his open chest, he was at risk of overheating. The burnout from earlier proved as much. She rolled the thermometer over his forehead and it gave a soft beep, the display on it turned green and showed his temperature. Ninety-Seven point seven Fahrenheit.

The technician noted the android’s core temperature down next to the other temperatures she just recorded. Then Alex moved on to other checks that looked very similar to what a human check-up would look like. 

She checked his eyes by shining a light, then she listened to his lungs with a stethoscope on his back, and then lastly she checked his heart. The heart was the one thing that differed from a human’s exam. If he had his chest plate it wouldn’t be so different but because of his condition special measures needed to be taken...said measures were to put the bell of the stethoscope directly onto his thirium pump. 

Hank looked away for that. He didn’t like looking into Connor’s open chest to begin with let alone watch someone touch his heart. Why did androids have to be so human-like even with some of their ‘organs’?

She then double-checked that the auxiliary thirium pump regulator was doing well and was still properly in place, and checked over the ‘IV’s he was hooked into. Everything was as it should be.

“Everything is looking good, all things considered, you are a healthy and strong android.” Alex said as she finished checks. “Now I’m still going to have to do some in-depth scans to figure out why you are having problems vocalizing, as I saw no damage to the vocal unit itself….it may be due to the damage to your processor. In fact, I am almost certain it is due to damage in your processor because of where the cracks are.” As she explained it she realized she never explained to Connor all the damage he had sustained. She jumped into the exam with little more than an introduction. The look on Connor’s face said it all. He didn’t know.

“I never explained what damage you received did I?”

Connor shook his head.

“You explained to me what was wrong with him the first night but I could use a refresher myself.” Hank said. Although most of it went over his head the first time and he was sure it would again this time as well.

Alex nodded and went ahead with the long explanation.  
  
“As I’m sure you know you were involved in a car accident. As a result multiple vital biocomponents were damaged, as well as several minor components and lines. You lost a critical amount of thirium and we were barely able to replace it before you bled out more. Some of the damage was so severe that it was beyond repair. Your thirium pump regulator was among that group. We don’t currently have a replacement so you are currently on an auxiliary regulator. That’s why your abdominal and chest panels are open.”

The technician explained. That was the start of it there was plenty of more to tell him. But she paused to let him take it in. She knew his processor was lagging behind and he may need time to take in what he had heard.

Connor listened carefully and nodded as he heard the list of damage he had sustained and what was fixed or temporarily stabilized by other means. He did need the extra time to process the news. After he went through it all in his head he nodded once more, to show he understood and had heard her.

“Anything else?” He asked.

Hank put a reassuring hand on Connor’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. With sad eyes and a heavy heart, he looked to Connor then to Alex who nodded.

Connor felt anxiety bubble up within him. What was it?

“While doing our emergency scans on the night you came in, we found several cracks in the section 3w45A of your processor. That is the part of your ‘brain’ that controls movement, speech, and sleep…this is likely why you have trouble talking. There could be other reasons as well, our tests later will tell us for sure.” She broke the news to him with a sympathetic look.

But honestly she had been expecting more issues than just slowed stuttered speech and robotic buzzing. But the longer he was awake the more issues could pop up. This is why they needed to keep an eye on him and why he wasn’t out of the fog just yet.

His stomach dropped. His processor was damaged? But...but… “T-t-that _ caan’t _be fiiis” He meant to say ‘fix’ he had trouble saying it. Some words were worse than others. But the fear and sadness overtook him. That couldn’t be fixed. He was broken? For good? How did one handle that kind of news?

“No, it can’t.” The technician verified “But there are some risky and experimental treatments and repairs available...that would be up to you. And we’ll talk about that once you gain back some strength.” And after some of his other damage was fixed. Once he was ready to leave she’d talk to him about his options but she doubted he’d be willing to take many if not any of them.

“You rest for now kid, we’ll worry about it later” Hank said.

Alex nodded. ”Rest will help you recover.” Rest mode helped take the stress off of various important systems and it let an android’s body power down and repair itself. “You said you were tired?”

Connor nodded.

“That is likely from all the damage and trauma your systems have endured. Rest is the best option to help your recovery. Your systems still have a lot of catching up to do. It can also be a result of your processor cracks. As the affected area deals with rest mode as well as speech. We won’t know more about the extent of your processor injury until we do more scans...for now, try to take it easy and rest as much as you can.”

“What’s the next step now that he’s awake?” The Lieutenant asked.

“We have to wait until his replacement regulator comes in, then we will take him to install it and close his front areas up. After that happens, we’ll run some tests to see what all is affected with those cracks, then depending on how he’s feeling and the results, he’ll be released to home.”

Both men nodded. Connor hated being confined like this but there was little he could do without a thirium pump regulator. At least he had to look forward to when he was fully fixed….even if he might never be truly ‘fully’ fixed. But he wouldn’t worry about it for now. He just wanted to sleep.

* * *

“Any other questions?” Alex asked.

Connor didn’t have any, but Hank reminded him of something by asking his own question. “When can he get some clothes on?” Oh right. He was naked under this sheet. Connor quickly nodded, wanting to know the same. “Y-y-yeah wh-when can I-.” He stopped mid-sentence as he took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Shit. He had a sharp pain race though him.

“Are you hurtin’?” Hank asked him, his thoughts falling though. He had more important things at hand now. Connor nodded as a hiss escaped his lips. Hank patted his arm. “You’re good kid, I got you.”

“I’m sorry there’s little we can do for pain...androids feeling pain is still such a new thing...all the whys and hows have yet to be worked out.” She felt horrible and wished she could do something.

Just as quickly as it came it faded away. Connor blinked and took a few deep breaths. “I-I’m goood.” 

“What was that?” Hank asked, concerned.

“Where was the pain?” Alex asked Connor trying to access him.

Connor tapped his head. “Pain, here.” he answered simply.

“It could be a result of the damage you have taken, or just stress on your systems. Rest will help either way. As for pain itself there’s not much we can do just have to work though it but if it gets bad enough we do have some express measures to try.”

Both men nodded, and Hank’s blue eyes sadly met Connor’s brown hues. Connor took another deep breath and finally settled back down from the pain episode. Once everyone was settled, Hank repeated his question from before.

* * *

“So now that..that’s over...uh..when can he get dressed? He’s goin’ pretty bare here after all.” Connor nodded but didn’t dare speak up.

“Yeah, sorry about that they don’t have any gowns here, not much in the way of modesty for androids around here...not me but the ones running the show...but as long as his open panels aren’t covered he’s able to get dressed whenever.”

“I’ll have to make a run home to get him some pants then.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope I think we’re good, Connor?”

Connor nodded. He didn’t have any more questions and in all honestly just wanted to sleep.

“Alright then, well I have other patients to attend to. I'll leave you two alone to rest up, someone should be in to check on you later” Alex finished up with typing some notes and information into the computer and Connor’s file then left the room.

* * *

Hank rubbed Connor’s arm “Rest up kid. I’ll be here when you wake up.”  
  
"W-whaat about yoou?" Connor questioned.  
  
"What about me kid?"  
  
"You neeeeed to c-c-care for yourself."  
  
"I'm fine don't worry about me" Hank picked something up off the nightstand. The waved a half-eaten breakfast pasty and an empty paper coffee cup in front of Connor. "I got coffee and food, what more do I need?"  
  
Connor was too tired to properly respond, but it was clear he wantted to offer a rebuttle. Hank patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about me kid. You just sleep, okay?"  
  
The android, while worried about the human at his side, nodded. Sleep sounded good. He could feel it pulling him in. Connor laid back and closed his eyes, he quickly fell into rest mode. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better he thought as he drifted off.


End file.
